The Butterfly Collector
by ScarofAzazel
Summary: Desperate to retrieve the Flock dead or alive the School orders its top agent to hunt them down, but does this heartless kitten have another agenda? Set before Maximum Ride and six years after Loveless.
1. Preview: The Butterfly Collector

I do not own Loveless or Maximum Ride.

This is basically a cross between the two, taking place six years after Loveless ended (or at least my own idea for the ending to the series). To any Loveless fans out there, no, I did not keep the whole cat ears equal virginity system. That only applies to Ritsuka and a few other characters, not the whole world like in Loveless.

So, without further a due....

-

Sophia slammed through her apartment door, panting like a wet and ragged dog. In seconds a massive puddle had formed in the doorway and soaked the carpet below Sophia's feet. With a grunt she shoved the door close and bolted it in place. Sighing, she dropped her soaking wet jacket before glancing around her home.

Though nothing seemed amiss, she felt unsettled. Flicking on the lights to get a better view she walked around her small living room. From every piece of furniture to every spec of dust, the room was exactly as she had left it that morning. Turning to the bedroom, she realized what was off.

Smoke. Marlboro cigarettes. She knew them at the first whiff and prayed she didn't know the owner of them. Fishing her buck knife from her pocket, she cautiously pushed her bedroom door open.

In the darkness she saw him. He sat on the edge of her bed, the warm glow of his cigarette casting an orange hue upon his face. She stared at him, and he stared back. With a flick of her hand she turned the lights on.

The young Japanese man sitting before her was only a year or two younger than her, but no one could tell from his looks. She knew at full height he was a little over six-foot and, though outwardly skinning, he was built from head to toe in thick muscle. A red coat with black fur on the ends and black pants lined his frame. If she were not so afraid, Sophia would have blushed when she noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath his coat, revealing his hard packed abbes.

Not to her surprise, he wore a black beanie, which outlined his second pair of ears. Down his neck were layers of bandages, thick with blood.

When he spoke it was in perfect English. "You left your door unlocked."

She said nothing, slowly opened her knife from behind her back. When she didn't respond he continued.

"And the one you have probably wouldn't hold up if someone kicked it. You should buy one of those security doors. The steel gate ones."

"It wouldn't stop an Eraser."

"Well, at least they sent me rather than one of them. You have that to be grateful for."

"No," She said, fear pumping through her body, "No I don't. I think I should sit down."

"Don't. You won't be staying long enough." He took a long puff from his cigarette. Silence sat between them until it was nearly completely gone.

"If its any comfort they never told me when I had to return. So, I brought you something." He grinned and turned away from her. "I was able to get a hold of—"

In one step Sophia cleared the space between them, her knife whistling right for the intruder's neck. But she wasn't fast enough, and she probably knew that before she tried driving a four-inch blade into his throat. He cupped her wrist in his right hand and pushed it downward, his bandaged neck nice and safe. Roughly pulling her towards him, he took the still burning cigarette form his mouth and smothered it against her neck.

Searing hot pain was all she felt. Her screams went beyond the walls of the building, beyond the city lights into the storm above. With a thud she hit the floor, dazed.

"Really, now," He muttered as he took the knife from her tiny hand, "That was just rude. I was trying to give you your background file. But I guess you don't care about that."

With that, he threw the file into the air, letting it flap open and the dozen or so papers flutter to the floor. Sophia made no move to collect them or even glance at them. Steadily, she came to her feet. And then she ran.

Her powerful legs threw her out of her apartment in three steps. She'd brave the storm rather than stay in the same building as that psychopath. She bolted down the walkway to the elevator and slammed her index finger so hard against the down button that it cracked. The door "binged" open and she slid inside.

"Come on! Come on! Come on!" She muttered as she repeatedly pressed the bottom floor button.

Just a moment before the elevator began to drop, she heard the flicker of a lighter. All the way down she held her breath in, lungs filled with terror. Like a starter's gun during a track meet, the second "bing" shot Sophia out of the elevator and into the pouring rain.

She didn't dare look back to see if he was following her. Instead she tried to find an escape route. She was surrounded on all sides by massive buildings that were either apartments or businesses; guess it doesn't really matter what they are. None could serve as halfway descent hiding place.

Finally, she made her decision. Curling her back as she ran she let her pale white wings sprout out of her back and out the slits in her shirt. Stretching them to out to their full six-foot wingspan and let them flap.

And they snapped like twigs. Again searing hot pain rippled through her body and she slipped and fell flat on her face. She had been bound. It had happened to her before She knew it without looking. Invisible metal chains as thick as her arms were now tightly wrapped around her wings. He had her.

She leaned her head back, pushing the pain to the back of her mind, and found him slowly walking towards her. Was there a spring in his step? She couldn't tell. She could tell one thing though: not a drop of water hit him, but flowed around him as if an invisible barrier protected him.

When he reached her he pulled a newspaper from the inside of his coat. Unfolding it and slipping on a pair of reading glasses (God, did he look so good), he read, "'On March 3rd a serial killer formerly dubbed "The Butterfly Collector"'—oh, now that's good—"killed a third girl by nailing her to the ground with silver needles and burning their backs.'"

He stopped, and the words set in.

Sophia felt terror like no other. She'd take the place of any Vietnam soldier sitting in a hole and wondering when the bombs were going to blow them to bits. She'd take the place of any prisoner who's wondering whether or not his cellmate is going to shank him in the morning. They didn't know what its like to be burned and shredded at the same time. They didn't know how the blade would slip through their ribcage repeatedly and spill their guts all over the floor. She did.

Fear intermingled with anger. She wanted to scream, wanted to tell the world exactly was happening. She wanted every son of a bitch sitting in his living rooms watching TV and every housewife sleeping with her husband's best friend to know what was going to happen to her. But she couldn't scream, couldn't form the words.

All she could do was ask, "Why?

"Why? Which why?"

"Why do you do this? Why do you hunt your own kind?"

"Oh, you mean these!" He pulled off his beanie and revealed his second pair of ears. Fluffy, black cat ears to be exact. "And this!"

He tucked the back of his pants and a long black tail slipped out the back, slowly wrapping around his right ankle.

"Why? Because I don't care anymore. I don't care…about anything. That's why I can do this. You? You care too much. You care whether or not the cute guy who shares your Saturday night shift at the café has noticed your wearing high heals. You care whether or not a squad of Erasers is going to bust down your doors and drag you back to the School.

"And you care about death too much. Look at yourself! I bet you are wondering how exactly the needles are going to pierce your muscles. All these little cares! Now look at me! I'm not your kind. I'm different. I'm free. I've," He stretched out the next two words, "let go! And that's all you have to do. Just let go."

She listened, and she learned. All her emotions, all her problems, all her cares, she let go. And it was great. The rain stopped being cold and became cool, calming, serene. The striking pain she had pushed to the back of her mind was almost…pleasing, almost like sex. And death? Please! Little needles in her back sounded kind of fun, kind of sexy.

"You don't have to worry about me," She finally said, arching her head to gaze at the stars above. "I won't scream now."

"Good, but I can't trust you. You did try to stab me in the neck earlier."

"Yah…I'm sorry about that."

"Its okay. Not like it hasn't happened before. Well, now that I've bound your little wings I guess I should," The magic slid off of his lips like crystal, "Ice your lips and numb your tongues with the tears of heaven."

At his will the tears of heaven sliding down her face froze at her lips and literally "muted" her. She didn't really mind; it was uncomfortably, but also kind of nice. Cold lipstick. Ice cold. If she wasn't going to die she could totally sell that.

"Now, for the whole living thing." He raised his hands to the heavens. "Blood is the proof of life. Let it flow like the rain. Silver, shining tears of heaven, spill my specimen's red life fluid. Impale my pretty little butterfly."

Nearly two dozen silver, shining needles slid clear through flesh, muscle, bone, and concrete along Sophia's limbs. Her body twitched as each needle pinned her to the ground. A little bird turned butterfly. How exquisite.

"And now, for my finally." He took one last puff from his cigarette before flicking it at Sophia's broken wings. "Like a flickering star before it dies, like the crackle of firecrackers at the dawn of a new year, burn."

A tiny, white-hot inferno slivered across Sophia's back, burning away her wings and shirt and flesh. It lasted for only a moment and then it flickered, turning her wings do dust. And she was wrong. She did scream. But no one heard her.


	2. The Hunt Begins

Chapter 2! The Hunt is On! RAWR!

Anyways, I do not own Maximum Ride or Loveless (but in a month I will have met the creator of one of them).

Enjoy.

* * *

Jeb awoke to the sound of his cell phone vibrating across the nightstand. Groaning he snatched the small device and flipped it open

"What is it?"

"The 'Butterfly Collector' just struck again." The monotone voice declared.

"Well, well, well," Jeb hummed as he sat up, now wide-awake. "That's the fourth one in two weeks. You clean up?"

"Of course."

"Good. How was little Sophia? I haven't seen her in years."

"She wasn't completely acceptable of our judgment, but I brought her around."

"Wonderful," Jeb said as he fumbled around the room for the lights. Flicking them on he pulled a half a dozen files from under his pillow. "I was wondering whether or not you are up for another job."

"Six times the normal price. You'll get a hundred for each body you bring back. Sound reasonable?"

For a long moment the speaker said nothing. Finally, he asked, "What's so special about these targets?"

"They're…a flock."

"Sending a lone cat to hunt a flock of birds? I love the imagery, but you are still hiding something."

"You're so perceptive," And Jeb hated that quality. "Honestly, we want them all alive, but if need be you can just bring back the youngest. The others don't matter either way."

"I don't do _alive_." The speaker responded sternly.

"Don't worry. She's small and cute. She won't be much of a problem."

"I don't do _small, cute, and alive!_" He hissed this time. It must have been that time of the month.

Now Jeb was annoyed. There was no point in having a hunting cat if it bit the hand that fed it. But he knew that cats were far more tactful than dogs and had a stronger hatred for birds.

"Alright! New offer. Five hundred thousand for the five oldest dead, a million for them alive, and a million for the youngest." Jeb prayed he took the offer. He was going way beyond his power by making such an outlandish proposal.

Again, there was a long pause before the monotone voice found some emotion, "Location?"

"Some where deep within the Rocky Mountains. I'll fax you the exact location."

"Good." The speaker hanged up.

Sighing, Jeb looked down at the files.

"So, so very sorry little Ritsuka. I highly doubt you'll be able to cash that two million, much less survive my old _family_."

_

Two hours later Ritsuka was thinking the same thing. He was sitting in the Third Terminal of the JFK International Airport, a stack of files in his lap. He had just finished reviewing the files on the "Flock," and found his new specimens to be of a rare breed. Trained by Jeb, physically adept, and one of the most well designed genetic hybrids to ever come of out the School.

Never before had he gone on such a risky hunt. He might not come back alive. However, there was some comfort in knowing they wouldn't either.

Sighing, the young cat man slipped the files back into his bag. No point in stressing over things that wouldn't happen till they happened. Better to focus on the good things in life.

Like the fact that some stupid hag had lost her child. The little girl was wandering around the terminal, repeatedly shouting, "Mommy! Mommy!" but no one seemed to notice but the little kitten.

He didn't really care that the child was missing, but he really wanted to see the look on the dim-witted mother's face when she realized a complete stranger was a better parent than she was. So, dawning a rather beautiful smile that seemed out of place on the young assassin's face, he walked over to the little girl.

"Mommy!"

"Lost?" Was all he asked, feigning concern.

"Ye-Yes." She sniveled. How cute.

"Well, how about I help you find her?" He offered his hand to the girl.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"Well," He said as he smile brightened, "that is a problem I'm not allowed to talk to strangers either. What to do? What to do?"

The girl looked at the smooth tile floors, her eyebrows crossed in deep thought. Then, rather suddenly, she met his eyes with a smile and her hand.

"I'm Karen."

"I'm Ritsuka." He took her tiny hand and shook it gently.

"Reetooca?"

"Ritsuka."

"You have a weird name." Karen giggled, her freckled face turning into a giant, ripe cherry.

"Well, you are short." Ritsuka responded as he rose to his full height.

"Wow! You are so tall!" She exclaimed as she gazed up at the towering figure before her. Then, without any fear she took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

"How bout we find your mother now?"

"Okay!"

And then they were off. And then they found nothing.

"We'll never find her!" Karen wailed. They had asked at least a dozen airport employees and none had seen the girl's mother. Even Ritsuka had begun to feel discouraged. He'd take great pride in his tracking skills; to be unable to hunt a simple woman with her cub at his side was insulting.

"Hey, Karen? Do you like cats?"

"Of course!" So easy to distract a child.

"What to you like most about cats?" He leaned down on one knee to look her right in the eyes.

"Um…their tails! And ears!"

"I see," He hummed. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure!"

"Hold on! I have to be completely sure I can trust you. Can i?"

"Of course!" To prove it she took his pinky finger in hers and shook it three times. "I pinky swear and cross my heart!" And she did.

Setsuna smiled. Glancing around the airport he checked to see if anyone was paying attention to the two of them. When he was sure it was safe he took Karen's hand and rubbed it against his beanie.

"Feel it?"

"No…wait! Are those…" She put her mouth next to his ear and whispered, "Do you have ears?"

He nodded. "Cat ears?"

"And a tail," he whispered back, letting his tail slip out of the back of his shirt to tickle the little one's nose.

She squealed so loud she caught the eye of the few nearby onlookers around her.

"You're a…you're a cat boy?" She managed to sputter in between giggles.

He put his finger to his lip. "Our secret, remember?"

"Our secret!" She said gleefully. "Does this mean you have nine lives?"

"Yep! Though I might have used up two," He said regretfully.

"Oh…well, at least you have seven more!"

"Yep!"

"Karen! Karen!"

They both turned to find a red-haired women running towards them, wailing Karen's name and whipping tears from her eyes. She dropped down on one knee and scooped up her precious little bundle of joy. Covering the small child with kisses she kept repeating, "Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!"

"Mommy, its all right. Ritsuka kept me company."

"Reetooca?"

"Ritsuka! Jeez, mom. Get it right."

"Yes, dear. Yes, dear!" Then she noticed the young cat boy before her. Much to his surprise she wasn't what he expected. Her hair wasn't all frizzled and curly, her eyes weren't red, and she didn't wear a black pointy hat. In many ways he found her attractive.

"Thank you." She finally managed. "I can't thank you enough for taking care of my baby. She wasn't any trouble was she?"

"Of course not, Ma'am. You quite an intelligent daughter."

"Well, there must be something I can do for you."

"Really, Ma'am. I'm fine."

'Tell me how to kill five genetic hybrids and capture a six one without dying,' a part of him dared to think.

"But I must insist!" She pleaded, grabbing his hand and squeezing it rather tightly. Now he knew where Karen had got such a strong grip.

"Well…I do have one request, but it's a little strange."

"Whatever it may be, I must repay you for looking after my baby."

"Alright," 'Might as well try it.' "If we ever see each other again, you have to let me treat you to dinner."

She smiled. "Really now, I should be treating you to dinner. But if you ever in Jacksonville look me up. I'm Caroline by the way."

Caroline then handed him a card — taking an extra long moment to hold his hand — that stated she was a lawyer for some reputable law firm. Then, she kissed him. Right on the cheek.

"Goodbye," She whispered in his ear, and then she was walking away.

"Bye, Ritsuka! Please visit me!" Karen shouted and waved at her new friend with much enthusiasm.

He raised his hand in response before returning to the waiting area.

"Hmm…maybe capturing this Angel girl may not be so hard after all."

* * *

Sorry this was such a short and trivial chapter. I kinda just started writing and couldn't stop. Anyways, the next chapter will actually feature the Flock. You'll get to seem them in all their...um ... wings? Mistakes? Lack of strategy or intelligence? WINGS! Thats it! WINGS!  
So, yah, next chapter will feature Ritsuka's confrontation with the Flock. Will they be able to fight off the School's top hunter? Will Angel be dragged back to the School? Will Setsuna get his $2 million? Will Caroline ever get that dinner Ritsuka promised her?


	3. Angel

HIII EVERYBODY!

Sorry this is so short for something that took so long to right. I've been busy with conventions and other stories I had to write.

Anyways, I do not own Loveless or Maximum Ride (but I've met the creator of the former).

* * *

Angel yawned loudly as she rolled around her massive bed. The tiny creature that she was seemed to be drowning in the ruffles of fluffy blankets, smooth covers of numerous books and warm fur of stuffed animals. Rubbing her eyes she silently slid out of bed less she wake her older sister and roommate Nudge. The dark-skinned eleven year old took no notice to her younger companion's departure into the hall.

Silently Angel tiptoed her way through the house. More like a mouse than a dove she slipped down the stairs and into the kitchen, but it was all for naught. If she had not heard the thoughts of her older brother Fang she would have yelped when he suddenly appeared before her.

'What are you doing up?"' He thought in order to keep from waking the rest of the Flock.

"Flower picking for Max."

'I see.' His expression remained unarranged. 'Keep safe.'

The air was filled with a warm spring breeze and the smell of sunflowers. But they were not the little one's targets. Her home sat high in the mountains in a small meadow surrounded by large oak trees, making it a haven for anyone who wanted to escape the real world. Like her family and her. Because of that the land was as wild as it wanted to be.

Stalking through the overgrown brush she made her way down the hill from her house to the edge of the forest where her prey lived. Deep sapphire poppies lined the forest edge, bright and blooming with the coming spring weather. Gleefully, the little bird danced down towards flowers.

But then she stopped mid step. From the forest edge out stepped a young man of Japanese descent, dressed in a raggedy tan pair of pants, brown shirt, black vest and hiking boots. He seemed tired, but well equipped for a hike in the mountains.

'This can't be possible,' Angel silently thought. 'No one has ever been able to get up here. Could he be from the School?'

Quietly, she ducked down into the brush and crawled towards him. Steadily she reached into his mind and heard…nothing. Just plain nothing. It was if he was empty, completely empty of any thoughts or emotions.

He looked her way. She immediately pulled her mind back. For a few very longs seconds she just lied there in the dirt. She thought about heading back to the house, but she had to know why she couldn't read his mind.

"There's not reason to hide," he said, his piercing eyes cutting away the brush and spotting her with relative ease.

His voice is to her ears like freshly washed sheets are to your skin after a long hot bath. Before she knew it she was at his side, staring up into his thick grey eyes. To such a small child like her, everything about him from the curl of his coarse black hair to tranquil demeanor, he was beautiful.

It took her a while to remember how to speak. "Hello."

"Hello."

Wow. A mouthful.

"I'm Angel. Who are you?"

"Angel, what a pretty name," He smiled down at her, returning her to a trancelike state. "Hello, Angel. I am Ritsuka Aoyagi."

"Reezuga?"

"Ritsuka."

"That's a funny name."

"So is Angel."

She glared at him. She didn't exactly take kindly to someone making fun of her. "What are you doing here? No one ever comes around here."

"Nor does anyone live around here," he gave her a sly little grin as he said this. "Well, as you can probably guess, I'm a hiker. I've been climbing the different plateaus and cliffs around here for years, but I've never come upon such a beautiful place such as this."

"That's partially why my family and I live up here. Because its so seclude humanity can't cause any damage to it."

"I can understand that."

And then they just stared at each other, caught up in a silent conversation. Angel stood entranced by the older boy's eyes as if some secret hid from her under the surface of the grey waters. Try as she might, she could not penetrate neither his mind nor soul,

It was Ritsuka who broke the contact, bending down to pluck a few flowers. He took only a handful, tucking them in his belt.

"You should head back home. Your family's probably worried."

"Yah," was all she could say, but she did nothing.

"Maybe I'll see you again." He said before turning back to the forest.

Pulling from some deep strength within her, Angel shouted after him. "I really hope so!"

He only raised a hand in response, disappearing into the maze of brown.

She stood there until she heard Gazzy's loud voice calling for her. Quickly snatching a couple flowers, she bolted towards her home, stomach rumbling.

Ritsuka stopped about a half a mile from the Flock's nest and drew a pistol from his ankle holster. Double-checking the clip, he pondered whether or not he would even need it. Angel was too…cute for him to have to gun down the rest of her family.

He sighed. Maybe I'm just getting soft, he thought as he returned the pistol to its home.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared to clip a few wings.


End file.
